


Drought

by montes-carpatus (Carpathyah)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carpathyah/pseuds/montes-carpatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He waited for her like waiting for rain in the drought stricken city. She was bound to come back to bring life to his shrivelled heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drought

**Author's Note:**

> Accompanied Playlist: http://8tracks.com/carpathyah/old-crimes

She was like the whistle in the wind on a chilly October morning. She crept into his bones and woke his senses as he watched the sun rise in the distance. He brought his coat closer to him as he felt the sweat on his forehead almost freeze his hair into place.  


He waited for her like waiting for rain in the drought stricken city. She was bound to come back to bring life to his shriveled heart. Her red hair reminded him of forest fires, damaging and unforgettable.   


She was thrown into his life during a night of bloodshed. Ryan’s crew had landed themselves in different territory and they had no choice to ask for help from her crew. He remembered seeing her as small, fragile, hot. He didn’t expect to be the one needing to be saved. His head was spinning and he saw her in front of his body on the ground. She was firing bullets but he couldn’t remember at who. He was in pain, a lot of pain. He reached out to her but the darkness took him faster than he could call out her name.  


“You’re fucking stupid,” was the first thing he heard when he woke up. It wasn’t Geoff, or Jack, or any of his crewmates. She was sitting in the chair next to his bed. “Don’t move. You’ll make it worse.”   


“Why?” he asked. His head still drowsy from the morphine.   


“Because, it was my fault,” she answered plain and simple. He doubted it but he couldn’t remember that night very well.   


She stayed by his side, perhaps asking for forgiveness but she was forgiven long before his head hit the pavement. He couldn’t do much but spend his time looking at her. She was usually absorbed in a magazine or her phone. He moved his hand so it was palm up and she slipped her fingers in his. She was so soft, so warm.   


“When will I see you again, Meg?” he asked as he pulled on his coat in the hospital room.  


“You won’t, at least, not anytime soon,” she said as she watched him fix himself up.  


Time slipped between his fingers as he was back to work as if he had never met Meg. She lingered in the back of his mind and the longer he hadn’t seen her, the more he missed her. When exhaustion came over his mind, he could only dream of her skin and her touch.  


She was back in town for work and Ryan could only keep it professional until his palms sweat and his heartbeat rang in his ears like gun shots. She kissed him with the velocity of the oncoming storm to bring life back into the deserts. His makeup on her hands and face. Her waist in his hands. When they pulled apart, she rested her head on his chest, listening to his thunder.   


Love poured in, flooding his chest and his bed. His face paint was mixed with sweat and he left imprints of red, white, and black on her body. They shared the scars of crime and it didn’t bother them to leave a few more.   


She was gone before he could keep her. Her body wasn't present but she left damages along the landscape. Her shirt on the floor, her lipstick imprint on the mug; her hair on his pillow. The sun had come out again only to shine on his loneliness.  


He never cleaned up the mess she left behind.   
  
It reminded him that she was there at all.  


They were busy. It was clear. Days, weeks, or months before she knocked at his door or called his cell. Other times, in desperation, he had called her. They had learned quickly that it was a dangerous game to be in opposing territory. Yet, they risked it all.   


They couldn’t put a word to their relationship. They weren’t one nor separate. He would never have her like she had him and he had sacrificed every ounce of devotion to her. He couldn’t hold her down, nor would he force her to do so. The expensive diamond ring sat in the pocket of his jacket but he knew that there would never be a chance to ask her.   


Ryan watched the sun rise once again, wondering where she was and if she was thinking of him as much as he thought of her. His hands were stained with blood, dried and cracking at the knuckles. She wasn’t there that night nor the day after. He was certain she would come back and until then, he would wait for her like waiting for rain in this endless cycle of patience and need.


End file.
